My grandmother's eyes are aqua-speckled ponds of gentle
calmness. And when she smiles, her eyes become two happy
smiles themselves in her finely etched face. She's slowed
down by arthritis and she's lost part of her hearing, but her
eyes... How I love those eyes! Their altering color flickers
with wisdom, experience and patience.
It's been a full year since I last saw her, right before we
made aliya. Our too-short monthly overseas phone
conversations didn't compare with our lengthy, face-to-face
conversations, which often lingered deep into the night
darkness.
On the long bus ride to finally see Grandma in her new home
here in Eretz Hakodesh, with my baby comfortably settled on
my lap, I took advantage of the lack of stimulation. No
dishes, no laundry. I could think unhurriedly, unpressured,
and just think. I settle back, breathed easier, and reviewed
my last conversation with Grandma right before Rosh Hashona
last year.
I had curled up on her couch. For me, my Grandmother's couch
had always been equated with security and relaxation. A place
where I could open up and tell my most childish secrets and
fears and receive acceptance and reasurance. Now that I was
older, our conversations were more Torah oriented but the
comfortable feeling of her couch would always stay with
me.
"You know," I had said to her, leaning over to take a piece
of pre-yomtov cake from the plate on her coffee table,
dessert after a full meal, "I was at a class last night and
the teacher mentioned something that I've heard often enough.
The concept of each day of creation comparing to a millenium
and that right now, our generation is living in erev
Shabbos, so to speak. The difference this time was that
after class, I kept thinking about that. For me on a weekly
basis, erev Shabbos is a time of hustle and bustle,
running around to do all the last minute details, regardless
of how much I did in advance. Doesn't that describe this
generation, Grandma? So many people are racing down the
walkways, talking away on their cell phones, speed driving,
fast foods -- fast everything! It seems like everyone is so
overwhelmed!"
Grandma smiled at me. "You're an insightful young lady,
aren't you?" She put her hand on her chin, wrinkling her brow
in concentration, and finally focused on me, her eyes
sparkling turquoise. "All the modern day technology can
really help us to do mitzvos. If people are rushing to
help a fellow Jew, then all the rushing is productive. It's
important to recognize the good in situations."
I hadn't looked at it from that angle and once I came back
home, I thought about what she had said for a long time.
And now, as anxious as she had been to hold my first child
and her newest great-grandchild, so had I been anxious to
look into those two eyes of liquid purity.
As I alit from the bus, I saw her, waiting for me. We went
slowly, arm in arm, to her apartment. This was the first time
I saw her apartment here in Rehovot. Her dining room table
glossed to a sheen in the eating area commanding chairs
upholstered with material of little sailboats on rolling
emerald waves. Everything tasteful, practical and pleasant.
Just like Grandma. But looking around, I felt a sudden
grittiness in my throat.
My best friend had gotten married less than a month ago and
her mother-in-law was buying her the most beautiful
furnishings. I never thought of myself as a jealous person,
but every time I went to visit Chani, I was stung with my own
envy. Last night, her mother-in-law had bought her curtains --
sheer elegant cream drapes with deep chestnut colored
embroidered flowers at spaced intervals. "It's not really my
taste," she confided in me, "but it's not worth arguing with
my mother-in-law! And they certainly are pretty." Certainly
pretty! I'd say! I clasped my mouth tightly shut. It wasn't
Chany's fault that she had me jumping with jealousy.
Before my grandmother even stepped foot into her kitchen, I
began to pour out my mixed emotions alternating between the
powerful, blinding emotion of sudden jealousy ("Why did
she have to get a mother- in-law with taste and money
together? And she doesn't even like it!") and the just
as powerful emotion of remorse ("How can I think such
thoughts? Chani is such a good person! I would never want
anything to be taken from her, G-d forbid!").
My grandmother sifted flour, measured ingredients, and beat
the batter for her honey cake as I spoke on and on. When I
was completely finished, she observed me quietly and then
said, "The eyes see; the heart wants. Your emotions are quite
normal, darling. The question is what to do with them. I
suggest that every time the sensation of jealousy comes, use
your emotional powers to pray for Chani to have more and to
truly appreciate it! You'll see, after a while, the yetzer
hora will stop inciting you with feelings of jealousy
since it doesn't want you to use that strength of emotion to
pray for her!"
After a short inner resistance, I had to admit that her
tactic made sense. "I suppose I could pray for Chani to get
what she really likes. And I can pray for her and her mother-
in-law to have a wonderful, open relationship and..."
Suddenly, I found myself standing on Grandma's sofa, my three-
month-old baby clutched in my arms. Why do cockroaches cause
such reactions in (some) women?
Grandma's eyes smiled in laughter. She aimed her shoe
directly at the culprit. Finito. Then she slowly got up, even
more slowly bent over, and disposed of the small creature.
I carefully lowered myself to a sitting position, trying not
to squirm in embarrassment as I awaited her response.
She settled herself into her overstuffed chair and closed her
eyes, chuckling softly, as she caught her breath. "When your
mother was young, she also jumped from insects and small
animals. She actually had a phobia about certain things, like
harmless grasshoppers. But as she got older, her eyesight
grew dimmer and she would catch herself jumping from small
objects that she mistook for insects, like a black
pawn from a chess set or a safety pin. She would bemoan her
fate to me, questioning why she had inherited her father's
myopic vision rather than my good eyesight."
I looked at the picture-covered area of wall nearest me, with
photos of my grandmother's extended family, including my
mother, adorned in her thick, plastic rimmed glasses. I
couldn't remember her ever being nervous about bugs,
though.
"She grew, darling, and as she grew older, and wiser, she
stopped jumping back from every little object, until such
things didn't bother her, especially since it was so hard for
her to see what they really were. I believe she came to the
conclusion that since whatever she was seeing was probably
nothing to be afraid of, she'd react to it as if it really
was nothing -- which it usually was, or wasn't, whichever way
you look at it."
On the bus ride home, I thought about this aspect of my
mother that I hadn't even been aware of. Not seeing well had
actually improved her life!
The rolling motion of the bus rocked my infant into a deep
sleep on my lap. I looked out the window at the undulating
Galilean hills, their different shades of far-away blue
blending together peacefully. I let the land fill me, as I
watched a village draw closer, the roofs white with reflected
sunshine sparkling halfway up the hillsides. The graceful
curves of roads and hills together made a fairy tale view.
So much beauty! I felt overwhelmed with gratitude over my
good vision, which enables me to see this beauty around me.
So very much goodness here in our land, and in our people!
I suddenly realized that not seeing really does have its
benefits. Not seeing the faults of others, not seeing the
irrationalities and the awkwardness of those around me, not
jumping at every small `thing.'
The baby stirred and I patted her back rhythmically.
I felt a rush of excitement about my new insight and started
thinking of ways to implement this discovery when dealing
with my family and those around me, especially now, in this
month of Tishrei. We yearn for Hashem to overlook our
negative qualities and hope for Him to only focus on our
positive qualities and actions. Now is such a good time to do
likewise with our fellow Jew! I began to think of better ways
to judge favorably, or better yet, not to judge at all!
Visualizing situations in my mind to `see' with discerning
perception.
You know, maybe, just maybe, I do have eyes similar to my
grandmother's.
